


Leave All Else to The Gods

by Zaira_Angel



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dorian's dramatic ass, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Its the story of the inquisition, M/M, Minor Inquisitor/Sera - Freeform, Novelization, Slow Burn, Sort Of, Well - Freeform, and hopefully it lasts, i get ahead of myself sometime, i'm setting tention early, lots and lots of self indulgent nonsense, or attempted slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 04:31:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16211450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaira_Angel/pseuds/Zaira_Angel
Summary: When the Sky ripped open, it seemed like the end of days. For all Dorian Pavus knows it is, but he's never been one to go quietly. He joined The Inquisition, fully expecting to die. But then...there is The Bull, and that is something - a whole lot of something indeed.





	Leave All Else to The Gods

All of Dorian's lessons about demons were, in many ways, theoretical. After all, most mages only meet the one demon and spend the rest of their life with their nose in a book or growing fat on lavish Magister’s chair. In Tevinter, it was less of a matter of "if" you pass your Harrowing but more a matter of "how quickly". Young mages would brag 'I finished mine in an hour!' And another would scoff dismissively, saying  'A whole hour, I had passed in forty minutes', and so on. Dorian often took these with a grain of salt, he had passed his in just under forty-five minutes, and he knew for a fact he was a better mage then the ones who claimed they'd passed the test in half an hour.  
But even theoretical knowledge had served him well enough. He'd closed perhaps half a dozen riffs with Elle, and had not once faltered. Even when he felt the rage demon pick inside his mind or the despair demon whisper in his ear. He'd brushed them away specks of sand and brought them to their end. But today, today Dorian encounters his first fear demon. He saw its terrifying visage and felt the tendrils of its powers snake its way into him. Under normal conditions he would brush them away, turn all his thoughts to the task at hand - but his concentration had been divided during this particular excursion. The Qunari had recently joined the Inquisition. He'd been there for the better part of six weeks but this was the first time Dorian had fought side by side with him. He couldn't help but keep one careful eye on The Bull, despite The Harold's assurance.

When Dorian had first heard about this he came to Elle privately. Elle had dismissed him saying _'We need all the help we can get, I'm not the naive girl you think I am, Dorian.'_ He'd felt a stab of shame then. He didn't think her a naive girl, not in the slightest, but she'd been treated as such by many around her. Cullen seemed to be the worst offender, though Dorian doubted he meant to make her feel that way. It was clear enough that her nerves were frayed, and perhaps it was not the best time for the discussion. Naturally, the next time he'd voiced his concerns it was in the presence of The Iron Bull himself.

"We have a Ben-Hassrath with us? A Spy. An actual Qunari spy," Dorian had blurted, after spending much if the journey to the Hinterlands stewing over it. "That doesn't strike anyone as a bad thing?"

He could feel Elle bristle next to him.  
"Says the 'Vint. When we're fighting _'Vints._ "

"That's..." _That's what?_ Dorian stopped himself from saying 'different'. Dorian was well aware of what everybody thought of him. And The Harold had taken him on anyway. And, oh, he could almost feel the smug satisfaction of both them. He let out a huff. "That's not a terrible point. Okay."

The interaction hadn't quelled his concerns, and he found himself becoming irrationally irritated by the man's presence. After an encounter with some rebel mages, Bull had planted himself near Dorian as Sera and Elle riffled through the pockets their pockets.

“You hold your own pretty well,” Bull added, “For a pampered ‘Vint.”

“No Qunari would accept a Tevinter mage so easily... unless it was a ruse. When should I expect a knife in the back?” He spat.

“You ever use that fancy magic of yours to burn down a dormitory full of kids?”

“Err...not today,” Dorian shuddered, suddenly feeling ill.

“Then I wouldn’t worry,” The Bull laughed “Lot’s of other people need a knife in the back first.”

Part of it was suspicion, but the other part...The Iron Bull was impressive, the only word Dorian could think of in that the man certainly left an impression. Dorian couldn't deny his skill or his - physicality. And it had become impossible to deny that it had an effect on Dorian that had made it difficult for him to keep focus.

So, his attention waned, and now a fear demon had spouted from the rift, shrieking and sending tendrils of fear into the very core of Dorian. Images flashed in his head. Images of death and destruction, and there lying on the cold, hard ground. The Harold. The only hope of ending this thing, of closing the breach, and the only one to show him any kindness in this land so very, very far from home, was lying bleeding and broken on the ground. Dying? Or perhaps already dead. He could not tell but the demon towered over her ready to take the final blow and Dorian was already rushing forward without a care for himself.

"Woah there, big g-" Bull started,  "Dorian! Stop!" The words echoed in his head, the meaning completely lost. Suddenly, The Harold seemed very far away as the solid ground before him softened and boiled unnaturally. Huge pockets of sickly green sludge opened to reveal long, rigid limbs pulling itself from the earth. It burst from the fourth, knocking Dorian on his back. His head rang and still, distantly he could hear someone shouting, ‘Dorian! Damnit!’ Elle? No, the voice was too deep and she was still so far...he couldn't reach her and the terror demon above him was prepared to end her. He made a choice, a last-ditch effort to save the only one who could, in turn, save the world. ‘Isn't that worth one empty life?’ He thought rather dramatically, but there was truth to that. He raised his staff and cast a barrier over The Harold and the terror demon struck him. Pain ripped through him, but it was almost a relief because that meant he was still alive, for the moment at least. He saw through blurred vision the demon poise for another attack. Dorian tried in vain to back away from his prone position before in a spray of blood the demon was split in two. There was a final ear-splitting screech and ground was solid once again. The world was quiet once more. Birds sang, the sun shone and it all seemed very odd to Dorian. Distantly, he heard his name. “Never...get this blood...out,” He laughed and the world faded to black.     

~~~

He awoke to nothing but grey. His body ached and when he tried to move pain radiated from...everywhere. "Hey, hey, easy. Don't move, we're bringing help to you." The grey said.

Slowly the world came back to him and the grey transformed into a huge figure, with horns. ‘Qunari...’ He felt fear knot his stomach and he attempted to scramble away from the hulking figure but firm gentle hands prevented him from going far. *'Easy, easy,'* He heard echo through his head as cool glass was pressed to his lips. *'...for the pain...drink...'* The pain, yes, it was ever present with seemingly no particular source, so Dorian drank. Time passed, moments? Days? It was difficult to say, but when Dorian opened his eyes the grey was gone, replaced a silhouetted figure. It drew closer, and he could see the flash of gold and white as it leaned close to him. Soft gentle fingers tilted his chin and pressed against his forehead. An image of his childhood nanny flashed in his head, the song she used to sing...what was it? He heard his name again, then conversation.  
"....give him anything....dear?"

"....Stitches cooked up...elfroot... and blood lotus..."

"...surprised...still conscious..."

It was all Dorian could make out before the world went black again.

 ~~~

Dorian awoke to a dimly lit tent under several layers of wool and fur. He attempted to sit up, but a dull ache had settled into his entire body, but it wasn't the bright hot pain that had engulfed his entire body.

"You're a brave and stupid man, Pavus," a voice rumbled in the shadows next to him.

"Are you playing nurse now?" Dorian sniffed as he eased himself to face The Bull.

"Someone had to babysit your pampered ass, guess I drew the short straw," Bull made his way over to Dorian, "You took quite a beating out there big guy, don't overdo it." He kneeled by Dorian and adjusted the pillows so he could Dorian could prop himself up a bit. Being this close to The Bull had some...effect on Dorian. He felt his heart quicken and the rustle of fabric seemed deafening in the oppressive silence of the night. Their eyes meet.

"Are you in pain?"

This....this isn't right. Why is this affecting him so? He breaks eye contact and leans back onto the pillows.

"I'm...no, I'm not. I-" Dorian shudders, he can practically feel the heat pouring off Bull. And even as warmth pools in his belly, he feels a familiar pit settle there too. Shame. Good old fashioned shame. "Thank you."

He glances up at the other man, who seems to be very pleased with himself and Dorian finds himself, once again, annoyed by the hulking brute. He stood, though still hunched slightly to avoid putting holes in the tent, and returned to his previous spot.

"We're heading back tomorrow, get some rest,”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, hi, I've fallen back into Dragon Age hell and it is glorious.


End file.
